PART I I haven`t heard anything about the letters in a while. I think they`re just a scare tactic now. Besides, the letters are typed, not handwritten. Not very useful for police, if anyone is trying to find me. I`m beginning to think everyone is believing I`m writing these letters. It just doesn`t make any sense to me. My family should know I would never run away from home. I couldn`t ever run away from home. I have no where else to go. I don`t have anyone to run to. Yet I had someone willing to steal me. Surely, my family has some ideas around my disappearance. Their worst thought is that I`m dead, anyone`s thought. Their second thought is that I ran away and wanted a life away from them, based on the information of the letters. Their final thought should realize that these letters don`t sound like me, these letters aren`t me, and they will send a search party. I will be found, driven home. Safe, back home.

Only I am not home. I am long gone from home. Hours from home, locked in a grungy motel room with two guys, one girl, drenched in their sweat and smoke. I know who these people are. Months ago, I could say I was friends with them. Now I can only say I know them.

"God, this room is fucking freezing!" The girl said. This room is freezing, because the motel`s heating system blew up, due to the winter storm. That`s probably why the room was half the price it usually is and the reason they said I saved money when they handed me back my wallet. If anything, kidnapping anyone during a winter storm is a smart idea because no one can find you in the white out weather. We almostslid off the road twice on the way here. I was hoping they`d give up, drive off, as I walked home.

We`ve been here for a week. The first letter was given to my family when they arrived at my house. All it had said was that I`m running away and will not be returning. The second letter was out in the mailbox. It was dated a few days later, the day my family would arrive back home. This letter will tell them that I`m okay, and they do not need to worry about me, that I`m just keeping in touch. I`ve been told there will be a third letter, but I have not heard anything about it. I doubt what they said about the second letter was true, because when I asked if that was all, there was an awkward silence, a smirk, and two heads nodding.

They were never like this before. At least, when I thought I knew them. I only really knew one them that well. Ian Carter was my friend when I first started high school. We grew closer the next two years and by my senior year, we were more than friends. He wasn`t my best friend in the beginning. He was more of a friend I`d see at small parties, said hello to in the hallway, and every couple weeks would see him with his group at lunch. I wasn`t into him that well, until we had a class together in our senior year. He sat by me in chemistry, by choice. He helped me understand the chemical equations better and would offer me help for the homework. I couldn`t see myself dating him, or never even pictured it.

As our senior year was coming to an end, so was our relationship. It wascompletely out of the blue when he asked me out for a coffee date. He asked over text the night before prom, which I wasn`t going to. The funny thing was that he was taking another girl to prom, yet he wanted to take me on a date. I said yes, anyways. Something to do, I thought. And so that Saturday morning, we met for coffee at a small bookstore in town. We talked about chemistry class, our other classes, how bad the coffee was, his prom date. He said he wasn`t interested in the girl he was taking. The only reason he asked her to prom was because her friends were all over him about how she was all over him. He had asked her about a month before prom, when he was thinking of asking me. He apologized over and over again, until I told him it was okay and I wasn`t upset. Although, I told him I`d wish he had asked me.

After two coffees and two hours, we walked around the book store together. We laughed at the biography section of the old politicians and dead singers. We argued over which musicians were better than others in the record section. We agreed we didn`t like The Killers and would rather listen to nothing if it had to be them. We pointed out cringing anime novels and laughed at each other as we read through the pages. At one point, Ian checked his phone and was worried about the time. It was a few minutes until one in the afternoon. He had to get ready for prom. He said he hadn`t bought the corsage. I told him that was fine, but he said it wasn`t fine. He apologized again.

Then he said, "I had a lot of funwith you".

"Me too," I replied.

"I`d rather spend all day and night here with you in the shady book store," Then he put his arms around my waist and kissed me. He kissed me in the cringing anime section of the bookstore, while teens and grown-ups read through comic books. He kissed me for minutes and his arms moved up under my arms and hugged for seconds, my arms around his neck, before pulling apart.

"Have fun at prom," I said. I really had regret saying that after our moment. I really didn`t want to make him angry, but something about his expression changed. He laughed at that moment, at what I said. Then he took his phone out of his pocket, dialed a number.

"Hi, Evie. I`m afraid I can`t take you to the prom tonight. I have the flu. Yeah, I know. I`m disappointed, too. Yeah-" He smiled at me, while I looked at him very confused, "Alright. Maybe another time," He winked, "Goodbye," He hung up.

"Did you really-" I couldn`t help myself from smiling. I couldn`t help myself from laughing.

"I know, I know. It wasn`t a very nice thing to do, but at least we can spend the rest of our day here," He motioned his hand around the bookstore. I shook my head, wearing a stupid grin. He pulled me close to him, where we were a moment ago.

"I actually kinda wanna get out of here with you," He whispered into my neck.

"I`m glad we feel the same way," I whispered back. He kissed me then and there in that bookstore, one last time, before we left. It took me a a few minutes until we were out of the bookstore to ask myself if I really wanted to spend my day with Ian. I felt like Iwas just playing along. He cancelled on his prom date, which is a pretty risky thing to do. It`s not like he had a big reputation at that school, or had a big group of friends. It`s just, there was something about me that he liked. I told myself to keep playing along, go out with him, see what he wants.

We spent the next few hours with each other. We went out to lunch at a hole-in-the-wall pizza restaurant, walked through town, and laughed at the sketchy people walking by, until I received a phone call from my mother the I had to return home "at this very moment".

"I`m sorry I have to go now, but I had a really fun time today"

"We can have fun many more days. I`ll talk to you later tonight," He kissed me, and then we walked to our cars parked in the lot behind the bookstore. We kissed once more, and then I left for home. There was a concern in my mother`s voice. Like a desperate need for me to be home. As I drove around the corner, there were red and blue lights outside of my home. Police cars were stretched along the street, and one ambulance car was parked in our driveway, where I would`ve parked. I parked my car down the street of my neighborhood and quickly walked home. I had no idea what was happening, but someone wasn`t okay. I opened the front door and there were policemen gathered around my mother. She was in tears, sobbing. She could hardly speak. I walked the opposite direction and down the hallway to my bedroom. My younger brother`s room was right across from mine. More policemen gathered around my mother, as they left my brother`s room. A detective entered hisbedroom, an empty plastic bag in his right hand.

"Stevie," I spoke quietly to no one. Steven, Stevie for short, was only eight years old and very independent. He was trusted to walk home from school on his own and to his friend`s houses. Our neighborhood was supposed to be safe, a calm, gated community. We all knew each other. We knew each other. I walked out of my bedroom, into Stevie`s room, afraid and feeling unwelcome. Stevie wasn`t in his room. There were puddles of blood on his bedroom floor, his backpack next the puddles. Coloring books on his bookshelves splattered with specks of blood. The window, overlooking the back forest, tears of blood running down the glass. I stood there, taking all of it in. Stevie wasn`t in here. Stevie wasn`t here.

The detective looked over his shoulder at the sound of my feet shuffling among the carpet. "You can`t come in here," He directed.

"Where`s Stevie?" I asked. He motioned me out of the room. I backed out of his bedroom, as policemen searched through his things, his back pack, bookshelves, then into my bedroom. My things, my artwork, taking pictures of the crime scene, the scene of my bedroom. One of the officers directed me to my mother, who was unable to speak. She held me, as she saw me walking towards her.

Choking on her words, she said, "Steven was murdered". Over the very few hours of my arrival, I had learned that Stevie murdered. He was walking home from a friend`s house and someone was following him. When Stevie arrived home, whoever was following him had followed him into his bedroom and stabbed him twelve times. My mother was home at the time, thought Stevie was okay, because he said hello while she was inthe kitchen. Minutes later, she heard strange noises coming from his bedroom, and watched as a figure rushed past her, knocking her down. The figure was dressed in black. It ran out of the house, before my mother checked to see if Stevie was okay. Stevie was dead.

The murderer had not done a very good job at hiding the evidence. The figure was identified as a twenty-nine year old male, high on acid, whose life was in trouble. He claimed he needed to release some of his anger and so he released his anger on my eight year-old brother, Stevie. Dread Reynolds, was the name of Stevie`s murderer. He lived thirty minutes out of town and had visited a friend in the neighborhood for a quick fix. My neighborhood.

My father was called right away through the police and had driven an hour and a half to come here. When he saw my mother, he held her for the rest of the night and did not let her go. They weren`t together anymore, and I don`t know why he slept with my mother, and not the couch where he had slept the nights of their fighting.

"I won`t leave you," He whispered to her. I found it rather depressing that they were back together the moment my brother was murdered, but I guess I don`t know how love works.

The investigation team got all the evidence they needed and policemen had asked all of their questions. The ambulance drove away with dead Stevie and a cleaning crew had come to do their work. My mother and father talked in the kitchen for hours that night. I didn`t listen to their conversation, but every while I could hear my mother sobbing again. It was around ten O`clock when I received atext message from Ian.

Everything okay?

I thought everyone would know, but it`s an everyday story like the others. Another crime. People die everyday. Crimes happen everyday. I had nothing to say. Everything wasn`t okay, but not everything was okay. And so, I didn`t reply to his text message. I left it marked as read, and eventually he would hear about it on the news.



"Hey Ian, I`m starving. I think I`m gonna go down to the bar to get something. You guys want anything?" Ryan looked back and forth to the two sitting on the bed, warming each other, while I sat on the floor with my back to the bathroom door.

"We`re good, thanks," Ian replied, moving his hands underneath the motel`s comforter. The girl giggled, as she pulled herself under the covers and down to Ian`s waist. I hadn`t realized I was looking at him, until he gave me an apologetic smile. A tear tickled my cheek, as I wiped it away suddenly. I wasn`t going to cry over his stupid apology. He wasn`t going to be forgiven.

"Lucy, you?" He asked.

"I`m fine," I replied. Although, I wasn`t. I haven`t eaten anything since yesterday morning. I`m going on a hunger strike, until they tell me what they want from me. If I`m dead, they just have a body. They want answers to something, and I have their answers. I just need their questions.

"Alright," He grabbed a key from the desk.

"Lucy you should should go with him," Ian suggested. This wasn`t a suggestion, though. Ian didn`t make suggestions. He gave orders and I had to go with him. Ian breathed out a moan and I stood up right away. He looked to Ryan, the one I was leaving with, and they exchanged a smirking glance.

"We won`t be long," Ryanand I exited the motel room and headed downstairs toward the bar. Ryan wasn`t any older than all of us. He looked younger than Ian, who was only a year older than me, even thought they were the same age. As we got closer to the bar, Ryan took an ID out of his wallet.

"I`ll have a beer and can I get two food menus?" He asked the bartender, and then we sat down at a table. We couldn`t sit at the bar, because I was twenty and I couldn`t bring my ID with me. I don't have anything of mine with me. The clothes I`m wearing are Sasha`s ripped jeans and Ryan`s oversized hoodie. Sasha took my Ralph Lauren sweater from me, because she claimed it would look better on her. When I was showering, someone took my leggings, ripped them apart, and then threw them in the garbage.

"You want an appetizer?" Ryan asks me, as I look at the menu so I don`t have to look at him or anything else. I know I could scream and run, but I can`t run in this blizzard. I can`t scream with a single bartender and criminal right across from me.

"I`m okay," I reply. Ryan sighs, and then reaches across the table for my hand.

"Lucy-"

"Don`t touch me," I pull my hands under the table.

"Lucy, Lucy. Please don`t make this hard for me. I`m trying, really. I want us to get along. I understand if you`re not ready for more than a friendship, but you have to understand-"

"What the hell are you talking about? We`re not even friends, Ryan. I don`t know what you think you`re trying to do, but you`re clearly not doing anything that I`d fall for," I keep my voice low.

"Alright, but I`m just saying.I really like you, Lu. Really like you," He smiles and my stomach churns.

"What can I get for you two?" A waiter asks us, a pen and pad in his hands.

"We`ll have two burgers with fries, no onions, no mustard, and uh, she`ll have a coke," Ryan answers.

"Alright, two burgers with fries, no onions, no mustard, and a coke," The waiter repeats.

"That`ll do it," He gives the waiter a different smile from the ones he gives me, a friendlier smile. The waiter leaves and returns minutes later with a coke. I watch the sweat tear down from the chilled glass. I can`t drink this.

"So anyway, Ian told me your story. I`m sorry about your brother, Lu. That is really just so sad and I couldn`t imagine something like that happening to my sister. She`s older, but still. I`m sorry," Ryan gave me a smile, not apologetic, but sincere. Ryan was an oblivious asshole. He kidnaps an innocent girl he barely knows, hears her story through someone who knows her more, and thinks sympathy can be given at the slightest. I don`t say anything to him, but sit back on the hard, wooden chair and give him a look that should tell him he isn`t forgiven.

"Are you okay?" He asks. Again, I don`t say anything. He should know that I`m not okay. After what I`ve been through this week, I`m very far from okay.

Ten minutes of silence and our food arrives. I had given up and eaten everything on my plate. I could feel Ryan watching me stuff everything down my throat, but I didn`t give him any attention. Once we finished eating, we went back the room where Ian was packing clothes in a suitcase and Sasha was in the shower. Ryan gloated over the way I ate my mealto Ian, who looked at me and laughed. I felt sick to my stomach, as Ian looked at me. I felt disappointed for finishing the meal, at that moment.

"If it had been an eating competition, she would`ve won by far!" Ryan announced.

"I`m happy you finally ate something," Ian said to me. I could feel the food in my stomach digesting, churning.

"We leaving soon?" Ryan pointed to the suitcase Ian was packing.

Ian nodded, "Yeah, apparently the storm is supposed to clear up by tonight. Then we can get back on the road tomorrow and hopefully make it late that night".

"Make it where?" I asked. I know he won`t tell me anything about anything, but I knew I could try to push something out of him. Ian wasn`t all that shut off from me. In fact, it seemed as if he was dying to let me know everything.

"Now she speaks," Ryan chants.

"Stop," Ian snaps, but he`s looking at Ryan. Ian doesn`t answer me. I try again.

"Where are we going?" but I don`t get even the slightest attention, "Ian!"

"Does she only know how to talk to you?" Ryan laughs to himself, as Ian looks at him annoyed, "Lucy, I`ll tell you where we`re headed," Ryan says to Ian. I look to Ryan, slightly surprised by his words, until I wonder if he`s joking.

"All you have to do is sleep with me tonight," He smiles, sickly. This room came with two beds. One for Sasha and Ian, and another for Ryan and I. Although, I`ve been sleeping on the floor, at least trying to sleep. I`m wasn`t going to sleep with Ryan and I`m not going to sleep with Ryan. I could wait to see where we arrive tomorrow, but could I? I wonder about telling Ryan that I`ll sleepwith him, but only for answers first.

"Come on, Lu. Is sleeping on the floor better than sleeping on me?" He jokes.

"I`ll sleep with you," I say. Ian looks at me, concerned. He`s not happy about this, but I am.

"Really?" Ryan sounds surprised.

"Really," I reply, "Where are we going?" Ian goes back to packing the suitcase, after I`ve asked.

"Oh," Ryan responds, disappointment in his voice, "You`d have to sleep with me first, then I`ll tell you in the morning".

"I`m not waiting until the morning," I snap and Ian turns to face me, again. He glances at Ryan who tries to hide a smirk spreading across his face.

"Damn," Ryan steps back, "Well, I`m gonna take a shower in a few if you wanna join me," Ryan smiles from ear to ear.

"Ryan," Ian speaks, sounding frustrated with his joking.

"I`ll join you," I smile back, knowing Ian is now watching me. He doesn`t approve of what I`m going to do and I`m perfectly fine with that. As Sasha comes out of the bathroom, Ryan nods to the bathroom`s direction, and then glances at me. As I enter the bathroom, I hear Ian`s laugh, a repetitive melody. I turn back and see him and Ryan looking at me, laughing. Instantly, I feel embarrassed.

"Go on," Ian waves me off, knowing that I`ve lost all my power of making him feel indifferent. He grabs Sasha by the waist and kisses her bare neck, her towel slightly unwrapping from the boney, browned body.

I turn the shower on and begin to undress, while Ryan stands still. He`s watching me undress. I turn around so he can`t see my chest, but he grabs my wrist and turns me to face him. He pulls me into him. He`s gentle with me, unlike Ian. With Ian, the pullwas always a force. Ryan`s pull is more of a tug, a gentle flick for attention. He sucks on my neck for seconds, before undressing. He`s skinner than Ian, rib cage barely visible. I try to look away, as he takes off each piece of clothing.

"Look at me," He speaks, forcing. I look at him, at his thin torso, naked waist. I take a few steps back, but he follows me. Almost slipping on the wet tiles, I put myself into the shower. The water is steaming hot and Ryan laughs at my hurt expression. He turns the water down, lukewarm. Now I`m freezing, as he stands under the shower head.

"Come here," His eyes closed. I go to him and the moment he feels my body against his, he presses his lips against mine, making his way inside. I think he notices that I`m shivering, because he wraps his arms tightly around my torso. He doesn`t change the water`s temperature. He reaches for Sasha`s shampoo and washes his hair. During that time, I wash mine. We wash our bodies, become tangled in each other, and then shut the water off. He dries off his body, and then dries mine. I watch him get dressed, wearing the same clothes he wore yesterday. My body is damp from the towel, and I put Ryan`s hoodie on, and as he turns to exit the bathroom, I stop him.

"Oh, right," He looks down on the tile.

"Ian told me not to tell you," He pulls mouth to the side.

"You said-"? "Yeah, I know what I said. Look, I really don`t think it`s a good idea for you to know just yet. Ian doesn`t want me to tell you, because he thinks you`ll get in touch with someone and tell them where we`re going. Hesaid you`re really good at doing things like that, secrets, I mean. I`m sorry and I`d tell you, but you know the kind of person Ian is. It`s just better for all of us if you didn`t know," He tries to wrap his arms around me, but I step back.

"Do you even know where we`re going?" I ask, and I could sense a spark in his behavior. He looks guilty and is trying to hide it through touching me, rather than looking at me.

"Of course I do," His voice is concerning.

"Uh-huh and if you`d know, you would tell me after what I did for you"

"I want to tell you. Believe me, I do. It`s just-"

"It`s just you don`t know," I interrupted.

"Lucy, babe. I do know where we`re going," He laughed, quietly, hiding annoyance.

"I thought we had a connection Ryan, a good connection. Something more than a friendship, but I don`t know. Maybe, I was wrong. I just-" I paused, looking down onto the tile, thinking what else to say to get him to tell me anything.

"You just, what?"

"I just thought we had something," I finish. Ryan stands tall and looks at me, eyeing me. He`s disappointed in himself and I make myself look depressed. I make myself look defeated, something to trick him into thinking I need him. In that moment, I let him wrap himself around me. I let him kiss the top of my head and apologize into my ear. I kiss his lips, softly, allowing my eyes to water in that time.

"I don`t know where we`re going," He adds, after the apology. I force myself away from him and leave the bathroom. Great, this is all great. Not only do I not know where we`re going, but neither does Ryan. I don`t even know why he`shere. None of this involves him, I bet. I catch Ian`s attention from packing, making a scene as I exit the bathroom.

"What- Did he not meet your standards?" Ian jokes, but his smile disintegrates, as he sees the rage in my eyes.

"He doesn`t know," I shout and Ian rushes to meet me. Sasha is now interested in the dramatic conversation and turns off the TV I hadn`t realized was on.

"Okay," Ian replies.

"Ian, where are we going? How come Ryan doesn`t even know?"

"Damn, Ryan. I knew you wouldn`t be able to keep that one to yourself," He shakes his head at Ryan who stares blankly at me.

"That one? There`s more? Where are we going?"

"You`ll just have to wait until tomorrow," Ryan tries to put an arm around my waist, but I snap it back, "The Hell".

"You`ll know by tomorrow, Lu," Ian speaks quietly to me.

"I`m sick of this," I feel the blood rush to my face and tears start to swell my eyes, "I`m not doing this, Ian. I don`t know what you want from me, but I don't have anything for you"

"Actually, you do," He puts two hands on my shoulders, looking like he`s now sick of me.

"And what is that?" I ask. His eyes slowly roll in annoyance, making me more frustrated, the tears now spilling.

"The bag, Lu".



PART II

School that first Monday after prom was a complete wreck. Everyone had known through the news and everyone else knew from everyone spreading the news. I walked into him that Monday morning with the darkest circles I`ve ever seen on someone. That was the first school day I`ve never worn makeup to. I set my alarm for five minutes before I left for school, because I couldn`t get myself out of bed to get ready. I didn`t care how I lookedafter that Saturday. Yesterday, my parents were busy looking for a new house. My father had to take out all of our vacation savings, because he knew our house would not sell. I thought maybe it would. Maybe someone would like the idea of living in a house an eight year-old was murdered in, as sick as that sounds.

Ian caught me walking in the halls, past the chemistry lab. After seeing everyone stare at me and hearing their apologies, I felt like breaking down. I was going home. Going to school two days after my brother was murdered was a terrible idea, even though finals were coming up and I needed to maintain my B-minus in Chem.

"Lucy!" His voice was far behind me and I felt disgusting for him, that he would know someone like me. Someone who had such a dark story in their past, but the murder was in the past now and I didn`t know how to move on.

"Lucy," Ian caught up to me, a hand on my shoulder. I paused, in the middle of the hall, on my way out.

"Hi," I tried to at least half-smile, something I haven`t been able to do since Saturday afternoon. Rather than completing even half of a smile, I felt my face flush with tears and my eyes burn from the lack of sleep. Ian held me there in that hallway, students bumping into us as they walked by. The bell for first period rang, but Ian didn`t let go.

"I`m going home," I told him, pushing myself away. I saw the sympathy in his eyes, the mask of apology in his skin.

"I`m coming with you," He said. He didn`t ask to come with me, or even ask if I`d rather be alone. He just knew to come with me. Hegripped my hand tightly as we exited through the main entrance doors.

"Excuse me, first period has just begun!" A hall monitor calls after us, but as I look back, Ian walks faster. He walks us to his car, a grey Sedan. He opens the passenger door for me and I get in. My mother`s car, a lavender Prius, parked lanes away from Ian`s car is left behind as we drive away. I don`t know where we`re driving. Ian turns on the radio to a channel of calm, indie classics. I cry stuffed into the seat of his Sedan as the music plays. Ian drives down Oregon`s coast, as rain begins to fall. The weather finally catches up with me. Ian is still holding my hand, as we park in the driveway of a beach front home.

"My home," He nods to me and we go inside. Inside the house is smaller than it appears on the outside, the walls are decorated with vintage art and the furniture is all dressed in quilted patterns. There`s a trophy case as we first enter in through the house, a dining room to our left, a closed door to an office to our right, a family room leading a long hallway with doors on both sides, and a kitchen to the right. Ian leads me to the couch, hands me the television remote, and goes into the kitchen.

He comes back with two mugs of coffee and two danishes. He sits them down on the table across from me, and then takes the remote that I`ve done nothing with and turns on a channel where they play movie classics. One of the very few things I`ve learned about Ian is that he is very much into classics. Music, books, movies, anything.

"These are from that bakerya few miles down from here. The one featured on that travel channel for best places to eat," Ian explains, taking a bite of a danish with purple berries in the middle. He takes a sip of coffee, and then continues, "My father is an accountant who works about an hour from here. It`s pretty crazy. He leaves at around six AM and comes home around eight PM. My mother owns a nursery about thirty minutes north of here," He takes another sip of coffee. I`m leaned into his side, taking sips of coffee as he speaks.

"I don`t have any siblings. My mother gets back home around five, usually. Makes dinner, cleans, prepares for tomorrow, things like that. I`m alone, basically. Well, I mean- I host parties here usually," I listen, wondering why I`ve never been to one of his parties. Some of our friends were friends, but those were my least closest friends. The friends I would probably not consider friends.

"They`re not really the type of parties you`d hear stories about at school. You`ve heard rumors about the hidden, `password-protected` parties, right?" He turns his head to face me. I nod.

"Yeah and those parties are hosted here. Not like the other parties we`ve been to. At the most, maybe twenty to thirty people come. I know for a fact I haven`t seen you here," He gives me a friendly smile, but I can`t smile yet. I know the type of party he`s talking about. We don`t talk about these parties at school, because we don`t want teachers or staff to find out about them. I don`t know why it`s really considered a party when it`s just a small gathering of people who do drugs. Drugs I`ve never heard of, never done, never seen.

"When do your partieshappen?" I ask, knowing they don`t have happen the usual Friday and Saturday nights.

"Sundays. My parents go to cocktail parties with their friends those nights, so it only makes sense," He explains. Right, it only makes sense to do drugs on Sunday because your parents are out of town. "What do you do Sundays?" He asks.

"Yesterday, I helped my parents pack up my brother`s things. They`re looking for another house. I`m not sure where, but far away from here," I say. I could immediately feel the awkward silence between us. I shouldn`t talk about this with anyone, because my parents didn`t want the press to know, though they did.

"I`m sorry, Lucy. No matter how far from me you are, I will go all that way to you. I mean it. I really mean it, Lu," In that moment, Ian leaned in close to softly kiss me. I set down my cup of coffee and kissed him back. This kiss was different from our bookstore date. It was as if we were more than in love at this moment. We were already, past in love, and keeping it together. Holding ourselves together through each other. I`ve never been called `Lu` before, by anyone. I`ve never had a nickname before, especially by someone who was so much into me.

I spent the rest of the school day with Ian. We talked about my brother, about how funny his drawings are, were. We talked about our afternoon at the bookstore and the freaks in the comic book section. We talked about the danishes and how they weren`t as good as the Travel Channel made them appear. We kissed during commercials of the classical movie channel, ate leftover pizza from Sunday`s party. At one point, we decided to go into his bedroom. He askedif it was okay and I said it was. We listened to indie classics, and then fell into each other. Ian was my first and during that time I wanted him to be my only. This didn`t feel like an ordinary hook-up to me. This felt like love. I felt like I was in love.

I got back home after school had ended. Ian and I spent the entire day with each other. After we slept together, he showed me a collection of pills, powders, and herbs he hid in a safe in his bedroom. His parents knew he had the safe, didn`t know the code, and thought he kept all of his personal items locked up. He told me these were his personal items. We laughed at that idea of locking up drugs and parents assuming it was everything but drugs. Around four, Ian drove me back to school so I could get my car. I texted my mother I was studying with a friend for finals.

"Mom, I`m home!" I call from the front door, locking it behind me. I set my school bag down in my bedroom and walk into the kitchen where I assumed my mother would be. I open the pantry and scan everything there. Stevie was on a low-sugar diet. After the doctor told my mother Stevie was three pounds overweight and not to worry, she worried and excluded sugar from his diet. She thought all the sugar he consumed through fruit juice and sweetened crackers were the cause of the three pounds overweight. I took a bag of pita chips from the pantry and grabbed a handful, heading into the family room.

I turned on the news. I knew Ian was avoiding the news channels, because he didn`t want to have anything brought up aboutmy brother. I appreciated that, but now I wanted to see what the news was saying, if anything. I figured they could`ve moved onto someone else`s story, something juicer than an eight year-old murdered in his own home. I turned on a news channel stationed here in Western Oregon and there it was. My house flashed for a fifth of a second, and then the screen switched to a woman explaining what had just been shown.

"An eight year-old boy was walking home from a friend`s and being stalked by twenty-nine year old Dread Reynolds," The screen showed a picture of Dread Reynolds just then. He was how his name appeared. Scruffy beard, dread locks, dark eyes, dark soul.

"Reynolds followed the boy into his home, and then violently murdered the young boy before attacking the mother and running away from the scene. A video of Reynolds running out of the home is shown here," There was a video of Reynolds booking it out of my house. Someone had filmed him, but I wondered how they would`ve known he was inside my house to begin with.

I turned the TV off right away, as soon as I saw my mother pull into the driveway. She didn`t work and from all I know, she wasn`t looking for a job. I assumed she was out dealing with funeral work. As she entered the front door, so did my father.

"Hi, Lucy. I got a call that you weren`t at school today. I understand and I`m not going to ask, but please, at least come home next time," My mother`s smile apologetic and sweet. I would`ve been honest and told her where I was, but it didn`t matter now. What mattered was the fact that when my father walked inside the home he didnot own anymore, he carried a large suitcase with him.

"Are you staying- here?" I point to his suitcase.

"Yes. I`m going to be here for you and your mother. The movers will put my furniture into storage later this week," He stood tall and uncomfortable. I could sense the connection between them had grown, but I wondered if it was going to be sustainable, because last time it was not.

"Only for a couple more weeks, though. We found a new home up North," My mother announced. I knew this was coming, but I didn`t think we were moving so soon.

"My company is in Washington so I`ll be able to work as soon as we move and you and your mother will be able to get settled in, considering it`s the summer. You`re finishing school here, and then we move," My father adds. I don`t know what to say to this. Where`s the sympathy for Stevie? Why aren`t we mourning his death? Why are my parents only worried about getting out of here?

"What about the funeral?" I blurt, not knowing if that was an appropriate question to ask. My parents are silent for seconds, before my mother breaks the ice.

"We`re going to have his body cremated. He will not be buried, not yet at least," That was the official answer. We all departed then. My mother went into the kitchen to start cooking. My father continued to unpack suitcases from my his car. My mother only let me drive her car to school today, because she was going to be with my father. He had slept here all weekend after Stevie`s death to be here for my mother and I. Although, they spent all their time with each other and I spent the weekend alone in my room, staring across toStevie`s room.

My father owned a photography company in Washington state. My mother was a stay-at-home-mom who cooked and cleaned. Since their divorce, my father had continued to pay for the house, but he moved closer to work and lived in a one bedroom studio apartment. I was fine with the divorce. Stevie was fine with the divorce. They never fought with each other. They just fell apart. They weren`t in love with each other and so they went their own ways. I respected their decision and they very much appreciated their children`s reactions, but now I don`t know what to think about their decision. They`re back together now. I don`t know how I`ll react the second time. Hiding depression, anger, and rejection was something I knew couldn`t disintegrate on its own. I did it all for Stevie, who had showed me his depression and anger. Now I have to do it all over again, on my own.



How are things there?

A message from Ian

Okay? My divorced parents are getting back together

That`s great! I think??

Yeah, maybe. I don`t know how I feel about it yet.

It`ll take some time to adjust, I`m sure. I`m always here for you though. You know I am.

His message made me automatically smile, a stupid, ugly smile, but I loved that kind of smile. Before I could respond, I received another message from him:

Will I see you at school tomorrow?

Yeah, I`ll see you tomorrow.

I wanted to ask you about Wednesday.

What about Wednesday?

Are you doing anything that night?

Not that I know of

My parents are going to be out for some youth group, church thing and I`m hosting a party after school. I`d like you to come.

I paused, before instantly replying. I wanted to spend all my time with him, of course, but I`ve never been able tosee how he is at parties. I`ve seen my close friends become completely wasted, saying things they don`t remember the next day. I only know these things, because I`m always their DD. I take a deep breathe, and then reply.

I`ll come. Should I bring anything?

No need. I`m happy you`re coming, Lu, really happy. I`ll see you tomorrow.

At school that next morning, I received notes for finals in Trig and calc from a friend. Classes went as expected. Teachers and students gave me looks of sorrow and sadness, while I tried to hold a smile for all of them. I guess the ten minutes of being at school yesterday had caught a lot of their attentions and they asked me how they could help me.

"I`m fine, really"

"Really, I`m okay"

"Thank you, but I`m okay"

"I`m okay"

At one point during that day, before Astronomy ended, a boy named Nick Middleton tapped me on the shoulder. Nick was the smartest student in this classroom. One of the highest GPA`s in this school, actually. We talked on and off in the class, only in this class. He never hung around anyone I knew. In fact, I don`t think he hung around with anyone at all. He had asked me to homecoming in this class, through a note. I kindly rejected the invite, because every senior I was friends with was skipping the homecoming and going to parties instead. I put down my pen and my attention shifted from the overhead projector to Nick`s sorry expression. He handed me a note:



Lucy

I`m sorry about what happened. If you need to talk, I`m here for you anytime. Please call or text me whenever you want to.

I replied on the back of his note



Nick

Thank you, but I`m okay. You don`t need to be sorry. I`ll text you tonight.

The bell tobe excused from third period rang and I immediately took off into the women`s restroom. I threw down my backpack in the very last stall and silently through a fit. I cried for minutes, stuffing toilet paper in my face to silent my whimpering. I was relieved I didn`t have to worry about streaks of mascara running down my face. I picked myself up, flushed the toilet paper, and walked up to the mirror where freshman girls were applying layers of makeup. They watched me wash my hands and leave. I only looked at myself and I could see why they would look at me. I appeared horrifyingly tired and depressed.

I joined my group of friends at our usual table, looking around for Ian. I was distracted by the annoying `sorry`s, `I`m here for you`, and `are you okay?`. I nodded off to all of them, letting them know I just wanted to eat in silence. They respected my behavior and acted as if it were any usual lunch day. I looked for Ian`s group of friends and when I found them, I found Ian as well. He was looking in my direction, but not to me. I turned around to see Evie Himricks and her sophomore friends eyeing Ian and his friends. They were staring so disgustingly at him. I found it rather amusing, and when I laughed, my friends turned to see what it was about.

"Oh God, did you hear? So, apparently, Evie`s date called her the day of prom to tell her he wasn`t taking her to prom. How cruel is that?" A thin, blonde, brown-eyed Alexa explained.

"Yeah, it`s all over the school. She`s going around telling everyone he couldn`t afford a suit. Like that will get the school to hate him," A pudgy, fake brunette, Sandraadded.

"More likely get the school to hate her," A built, fit, and catty, Lindsey added. The girls laughed and I heard Evie mention Ian`s name and enter into more drama territory. I looked to Ian, afterwards, who was looking to me. He rolled his eyes, and then smiled. I smiled back, knowing everything was okay.

"I`m happy to see you back, Lucy. We missed you, yesterday," Lindsey got me out of my expression-conversation with Ian.

"Yeah, I`m missed my blunt girl," Sandra put her head on my shoulder.

"Thanks. I wanted to be here, but-"

"Lucy, it`s okay. You don`t need to say anything. We all understand," Lindsey smiled, a very sincere smile. This is what I needed to come to school for. Friends who wouldn`t drown me in questions about what happened. They were truly good people and people who I could understand were never seen at Ian`s parties. There was a complete difference between my group and his group, but at the same time, I felt like I was in both groups. The difference was beginning to come together as one.

I ate my peanut butter and sugar-free strawberry jelly sandwich in silence, listening to the sound of gossip and hook-ups play for the next twenty-two minutes before the bell for fifth period rang and we were apart. Fifth period was a free-period. Normally, I`d spend this period in the library. Home wasn`t an option now. At least, then it wasn`t an option. My mother didn`t want me driving back and forth all that much, due to the increase in gas prices and so I was alone in the library. Or on days I wouldn`t mind being later for fifth period, I`d go to either Alexa`s or Sandra`s house. They skipped out on gym every once in a while, but I doubt theywould these upcoming weeks due to finals.

As my friends and I said goodbye and we`d see each other tomorrow, I saw Ian hanging out by the school`s main entrance talking to a couple of his friends. I was going to stop by and say hi, but I didn`t want to interrupt. Although, we made eye contact and ushered me forward. I walked toward as he said goodbye to his friends and something about Wednesday. The very moment I was in arms reach, he grabbed me with a single force through my waist and our lips met, as we held each other for seconds. After out kiss, we looked at each other, deeply. I couldn`t help myself but smile stupidly, eventually leading me to laugh. Ian began to laugh as well, arm still around my waist.

"I missed this," I said, quietly. Ian tried to hide the flattering smile I couldn`t hide, and eventually he couldn't hide his.

"I tried finding you this morning, but-"

"I was late," I laughed and we joked about how that wasn't an unusual thing for me.

"You guys are going to be late for fifth!" A hall monitor interrupted us. This school didn`t have anything out for PDA, but when it came to tardiness, the school was very strict.

"I have a free period," I nodded the hall monitor off, who didn`t question why Ian was still standing there.

"I`ll join you," He kissed me once more.

"Ditching class?" I jokingly smiled.

"For you," We left school and because neither of us lived close enough to waste an hour at home, we decided to spend it in a coffee shop a couple miles in a small district. We both ordered plain, black coffee and through the hour, we had ordered two more coffees. As the hour came to an end and we bothneeded to return to school. Ian hesitated before getting in his car.

"What?" I asked.

"What`s your next class?"? "Painting"

"Can you skip it?"? "Depends," I give him a concerned look. He sits down in his car and I follow. Without saying anything, he reaches over my lap to open the glovebox. Dried, green herbs appear before my eyes.

"Oh, okay. Weed," I giggle, but he remains silent and unresponsive.

"Yeah, weed. I know somewhere we can go if you want to ditch," He gives me all the power. I don`t have anything to lose. I don`t have any idea as to what university I want to go to. I don`t even know what I wanted to do with my life.

"I`ll try anything once," I giggle to myself, again. Ian joins in and closes the glove box, then leans in presses his lips to mine.

We drive over half an hour to the outskirts of our town. Once we reach sight of the sea, Ian drives up a narrow road, leading us to a top of a cliff. Over the cliff, the ocean is before us, crystal blue and glittering waters.

"Wow, this is beautiful," I say to myself, as Ian is busy in his car. I turn back to his direction and he`s rolling the herbs in paper. He takes a lighter and inhales as the end of the roll burns up. He reaches the roll out in my direction and I take from his hand. I bring the blunt up to my lips and slowly inhale. Instantly, I`m faded into the background of the scenery. I feel as if I`m part of the scenery and the world before was nothing as I was to the world. I inhale again and when I give it back to Ian, I notice he`s laughing at me.

"What?" I ask, trying notto join him.

"You`re just-"

"High," I interrupt and his laughter grows. I give up and join in. We finish the blunt, and then sit near the edge of the cliff, viewing the scenery. Our hands intwined, and everything before us is a breath of fresh air, while everything behind us is destroyed and suffocating. Even though everything before is everything I`d want from the world, I`m reminded by everything behind me. I can`t go any further. I can only go backwards. At that thought, something pitiful grew in my stomach. A thought I`ve had in the past, but one I wouldn`t put an intention to. I thought about going forward, letting the fall do the rest. Walking over the cliff was a thought that hurt me, but also left me with relief. I would go forward with my life, but I couldn`t bring anything from behind with me.

"What are you doing here?" A cold, deepened voiced calls from behind us. My thought vanishes instantly and I`m focused on the park ranger standing near Ian`s car.

"You`re trespassing on private property," The ranger barks. I hear Ian whisper profanity, and then quickly jump to his feet.

"We`re sorry, sir. I wanted to show my girlfriend-"

"Do I smell weed?" The ranger is now focused on the car, rather than what Ian had to say. He opened the passenger door to Ian`s car and removed the bag of herbs.

"Sir, it`s-"

"Legal, yes. How old are you, though?" The officer knew we weren`t of age. Ian stood quietly, unresponsive to the officer`s question. I`ve been in scenarios like this one before. Back home, Lindsey and I would drink her parent`s liquor without any of them knowing. One evening, it was around eleven PM and we thought her parents were going to be gone all night. Lindsey`s father hadfood poisoning and the minute they walked in their home, they could smell the alcohol on our clothes. I talked Lindsey`s parents out of calling the police for underage drinking.

"Mr. and Mrs. Uerling, you leave Lindsey home alone every weekend and expect her to be perfectly happy, knowing you two are off partying. It`s just that Lindsey called me to tell me that she was beginning to have panic attacks and I had to be there for her. The alcohol calmed her down."

I`m sorry you couldn`t be here for her, but as her best friend, I had to be there for her. So please, respect our immature decision just this night," I gave her parent`s a fake, apologetic smile. What happened later was Mr. Uerling went to bed, and Mrs. Uerling stayed up talking to Lindsey and I about our bad decision. Mrs. Uerling talked about her bad decisions in high school where she drank shot after shot to prove to her friends that she better than them. She talked to us about her first time, her first time using, and the first time she met Lindsey`s husband, who was no where like her. After Mrs. Uerling went to bed, Lindsey and I cried, laughed, cried, and hugged each other for what our night had become.

"Sir, I`m twenty-two. I can show you my ID. I got the weed from my father, who uses it for pain medication. He has a skin condition where he feels numb in most places and needs something to soothe him. It`s hard on my mother and I, because we know he`s going to leave soon. We can`t see him struggle anymore and I thought maybe I`d try to feel what he feels. I`m sorry and this is completely inappropriate. I understand that, sir, butplease excuse my friend and I for this one bad decision. We will not come here again," I fake an apologetic, sorrowful expression and the ranger nods off, slightly pissed off. He excuses us and apologizes for my father`s skin condition, and then watches us drive off, back to town.

Ian and I remain silent, music turned all the way down, until we reach school. As he parks in the school`s lot, he sits back in seat and takes a deep breathe.

"No need to thank me," I giggle to myself. Ian turns his head, expression blank, and looks at me.

"Well, that was fun, but I should get home before my parents worry," Which was a lie, because my parents never worried that much and I doubt they`d be home when I got home. As I opened the passenger door to leave, Ian touched my shoulder and as I turned around, thinking he would kiss me, he remained expressionless.

"You don`t know how much I appreciated that. I mean, I was in complete shock as he just let us drive away," Ian remained in shock.

"Yeah, well, it`s not the first time I talked my way out of going to jail"

"I`d believe it. You`re attractive and good with words"

"You`re sweet, but," I scrunched up a half-smile, reminding Ian I should get back home.

"Right," He nodded, "I`ll see you at my place after school tomorrow," I left without a kiss good bye and I think that was because he was too in shock to move.

Driving home, I felt completely numb. The weed had worn off, yet I felt like I was on a different drug, a different high. I wanted to cry and laugh on someone`s shoulder. I wanted to scream and free fall into the sky. I wanted to feel completely andutterly helpless, because I was, but something inside me held onto Ian`s heart. I didn`t know if it was mine, but I felt like I had given him my heart. And as corny as that sounded in my scattered brain, I felt comfort in knowing I couldn`t leave this world if someone had something so important to me.

That night, my parents were busy cooking diner, while I was reviewing notes for finals. The numbness had vanished and I was feeling overwhelmed for everything I had to remember. Equations, artists, exercises. I became frustrated at the sound of my mother giggling and my father raising his voice in a manic tone, as he shouted at politicians to the television screen. I tried covering up their voices with Seapony, but my father asked me to turn down my music so he could hear himself shouting at the politicians. A small third of me wanted my parents to return to their old ways. It was a sick and frustrating feeling, but I couldn`t help think that way.

About forty-five minutes later and my frustration in tears, there was a knock on my door. My mother was here to tell me dinner was on the table. I closed my notebooks and textbooks and joined my parents at the set table. A pot roast, roasted vegetables, and crispy potatoes were collected onto my plate. My father passed down a bowl of gravy for me to pour on my meat, but I ignored his offer and began stabbing a fork into a potato.

"Wait, Lucy," My mother spoke, "We`re going to pray first," She smiled in a sincere way, as if I were a little girl who had not learned all of her manners yet.

"Dear Lord, thank for you this meal and the ones at this table.Please continue to treat this family as they wish to be treated and allow our souls to heal as we are going through this hard time. It is in your name Jesus, Amen," My mother`s sincere and childish grin spread into a proud and accomplished grin.

"And now we can eat," My father nodded to me, and my mother giggled. It was all weird. The way my father made my mother laugh, and the way my mother laughed. I guess this was how they were grieving. I didn`t want to change anything for them and excuse myself to my bedroom so they were left wondering where they went wrong. I allowed to them to be the fake and amusing parents they were. I ate everything on my plate, and as we were all departing to leave, my father stopped me.

"There`s a cake"

"I`m pretty full," I tried turning to go into my bedroom, but my father`s expression became disappointed.

"Your mother baked a cake," He tried again. I gave up and sat back down in the dining room chair, as my mother faded into a depressive state. Her mood quickly shifted and she became very pale.

"It`s alright if you`d rather be alone now," My mother spoke up.

"No, you baked the cake for this family and we`re all going to enjoy what you`ve made for us," My father`s tone with piercing and shallow. I think I`ve figured out what was going on. My father wasn`t allowing my mother to be unhappy. He wanted her to remain amused and cheery. I remained seated as my mother gave up and exited into the kitchen to gather the dessert and plates. I sat silently with my father seated next to me.

"Lucy, please try to have a smile on your face," My father wasn`t looking at me.He was speaking to the wall ahead of him, the empty chair in front of him, Stevie`s usual seat.

"How can you smile, looking at that empty chair?" I asked, looking at the empty seat. My father was no longer looking at the empty space, but rather my empty expression.

"I will not tolerate this. You will smile for your mother and I and if there`s a problem, you can bring it up with me. I do not want you upsetting your mother anymore than she already is. Do you understand me?" He was furious with me. I was furious with him, but I was also afraid. I was deeply afraid of him at this moment.

"Do you under-"

"I understand. It`s just-"

"The cake looks delicious, June," My father smiles, almost evil and crippling. My mother places the cake right in front of us. A white frosted cake. It looks like an ordinary, plain, boring cake. My mother cuts into it, and inside reveals a layer of seeded, red jam. She places the first piece on my father`s plate. Then, she cuts a slice for me, and then one for herself. My father speaks with his mouth full, letting my mother know how tasty the cake is. He looks over to me and I immediately follow in his thoughts. I let my mother know the cake is very good.

When our meal is finished, I return to my bedroom and lock the door. I sit on my bed and think back to what my father was discussing. I couldn`t be unhappy. I had to fake my unhappiness the way my mother and father were faking their sadness. I felt truly sorry for my mother and father. Everyone deals with death in different ways and I had to respect my parents way of grieving. It`sjust, I felt more sorry for my brother. If we exchanged places, he would be too young to take care of himself, but he was independent and could figure it out on his own. I, however, was very good at taking care of myself, but I feel like I needed Stevie to grieve with me.

I showered later that night, studied for finals, and slept. I didn`t dream. At least, I didn`t remember what I dreamt about. I remember waking up freezing cold, and looking for my comforter with blurry vision. I remember having the worst headache, throbbing inside of my brain, and being extremely thirsty. I walked into the kitchen for a glass of water and froze immediately when I was someone sitting at the dining room table. It was my mother. She was in a bathrobe with a glass of wine in front of her. I didn`t say a word to her, as I filled a glass with water. I proceeded back to my bedroom, but the sound of her voice stopped me.

"I`m not that tired," She spoke softly, and I wondered if she were drunk.

"Okay," I turned around to face her, and she wasn`t looking to me. She was looking to Stevie`s empty chair. I felt my stomach churning and my headache growing, feeling as if my head was going to explode through the throbbing.

"I miss him," She spoke again, softly, "I miss him," She repeated.

"Mom, I miss him, too," I replied and I could see a tear stream down her porcelain skin. I was relieved to see this side of her come again, but in fear at the same time. She was broken and there was nothing I or anyone else could do. I wanted her to hold me, the way she used to when Iwas Stevie`s age. She would wrap me in her cashmere blanket, and hold me, until I fell asleep. These were the nights of Oregon`s thundering storms and tattering rain hitting my bedroom window. I would always scare myself into believing there was somebody knocking on my window, but my bother assured me nobody was there. I would sleep in her arms and wake up the next morning, wrapped in her cashmere blanket. She`d wake me up those next mornings with the smell of pancakes wavering through the air. It was her way of telling me everything was good, and I had nothing to fear. My father and I would do a crossword puzzle from the newspaper, and my mother would cook pancakes and tiny sausages.

Looking at my mother now, she was no where near who she was those years ago. And my father, I wouldn`t know he was my father. This was grief. This is the result of a family in grief. I went back to bed, locking my door behind me. I`m not sure what I had to be afraid of. I felt as if there should be a lock on my window, but I disclosed that thought, and fell into a deep sleep.

That following morning, my headache hadn`t cleared, and I searched desperately in my parent`s bathroom for pain killers. My father was now at work and my mother was asleep. I was relieved to see she had finally gone to bed, but wondered what time exactly she had gone to bed. Hopefully sometime after I had caught her. I found Aspirin and threw the bottle into my backpack. I washed my face, dressed myself in jeans and a tight fitting shirt, reminding myself about Ian`s party. I grabbed an apple and a granola, eating as I droveto school. I was lucky enough to park mica next to Ian`s car, who was already inside. I was early for school for the first time in a while, and had about six minutes to spare.

Walking through the main entrance, I saw Ian talking to a group of friends. I smiled as I walked passed him, and he smiled back. On my way to Calc, I received a glare from one of the girls from Evie`s table. I knew what the glare was about. She`d probably seen Ian and I kissing in the hallway.

"You`re Lucy," Her raspy voice struck me.

"Yeah?" I questioned, amused by the chubby, fake-blonde, fake-eye lashes girl.

"Well, you`re a bitch," She continued to glare at me, waiting for my response. When I didn`t give one, other than a twitchy smirk I was trying to hide, she walked away. I laughed to myself. I was happy to have someone say something different to me, other than apologizing for my brother`s death.

Classes went as expected. All of the teachers appeared as if they were giving up due to the lack of attention they were receiving. In chemistry, our teacher let us study on our own and if we had questions, we had to ask another student. I was surprised to see Ian not in chemistry. This was one of his most needed classes. I was mostly to surprised to see he wasn`t here, because it was our only class together. I hid my phone under my binder, so I could ask Ian where he was and if he wanted me to bring him any notes. I had an unread message and when I opened it, it was Ian telling me he wouldn`t be in chemistry and that he`s looking forward to seeing me after school. I smiledto myself and replied:

Do you want any notes? We were given several worksheets?

That`d be great, thank you.

Getting ready for your party?

Nah, with a few friends. Wish you were here!

I didn`t reply to his last message. I was suddenly intimated and overwhelmed with the amount of work I had to do and the fact that I wasn`t doing any of it. I thought about texting Ian I wouldn`t be able to go to his party, but I really wanted to see him. I wanted to see what he was like at these types of parties, anyway. I put my phone inside my backpack, turning it off completely, and continued working.

I was interrupted by a tap on the shoulder. Nick Middleton. Shit, I thought to myself. When I saw his expression shift from an apologetic looking smile to a real sincere smile, I suddenly felt relieved. I had promised I`d text him, but I was too wrapped up in weed and my family.

"I`m sorry," I mouthed with an over exaggerated expression.

"It`s okay," He whispered, "I just hope you`re doing okay," I nodded and turned back around to continue working.

The final bell rang and all students were excused to their Wednesday afternoon activities. I hurried to my car and turned my phone on to receive zero new messages. I headed my way to Ian`s house. The drive to his home was gorgeous, because I could see was the coast for miles and miles.

As I arrived to Ian`s house, I walked in through the front door and was immediately breath taken through the small amount of people I could see, yet bags of white powders and pills people were swallowing. I tried to search for Ian, but I couldn`t find him. I made my way inside to the family room, whereboys and girls, some my age and some older were snorting coke through dollar bills. They were all so calm, though. I sat down on the couch next to a boy whose eyes were closed, praying I wouldn`t be thrown up on.

"You`re Ian`s girl," The boy next to me woke up.

"Yeah," I smiled, knowing I was Ian`s girl. The boy didn`t say anything for a while. He was dazed and tired, "Do you know where he is?" I asked.

"No, but you could check- Hey, Ian! I have your girl!" The boy laughed to himself. Ian joined us on the couch.

"Is this fag bothering you?" Ian joked, looking at the boy to my side. They joined in laughing with each other. Soon another boy, looking much older than all of us joined Ian`s side.

"Yo, Ian. This is it," He handed Ian a bag of blue pills. Ian swallowed two dry, and the boy next to me took the bag from Ian and swallowed one.

"Pussy," Ian said to the boy.

"Fuck you, dude," The boy spat, "Ian`s girl, you want some?" He held out the bag for me.

"Oh, thanks, but no. I have a really bad headache," I felt stupid for saying that, not because the three boys started laughing at me, but because whatever they could give me would cure the headache.

"Oh, come on. Try it, try it," The older male ushered. I took two of the blue pills from the boy next to me and swallowed them dry. They cheered as I tilted my head up to swallow.

"I`m Ryan, by the way," The boy to my side held out a hand and I shook it.

"Ryan, the fuck. That`s my girlfriend," Ian put his arm around me.

"Hey, I`m just being friendly," Ryan looked me up and down before Ian was annoyed withthis kid and decided we should go somewhere more private.

"That kids a joke," He said to me as we walked into his bedroom.

"Nice meeting you, Ian`s girl!" I heard Ryan call out.

There were two people sucking face and smoking herbs of something, as Ian and I entered his bedroom. A tall, skinny Indian girl, and a dark, browned older man.

"Yo, Ian- this dope is sick. Thanks, man," The older man bumped Ian`s chest with his fist and Ian had to step back to stop himself form falling down.

"Glad you like it, man. Grown locally in the Canadian forests," He grins.

"Sick, man. This is my girl Sasha, buy the way. We`ll just be on our way out," The older man and Sasha leave Ian and I alone. Ian leans me down on his bed and begins kissing my neck. My headache was starting to wear off, and the drugs were starting to take over. I want to ask Ian what I had just